Dinner For Five Guys
Tim and I were watching Dinner For Five tonight. The guests were Frank Darabont, Harry Shearer, Fred Willard and Alan Cumming. (No sir, I will not buy any face cream with that brand name, clever though it may be.)
About twenty minutes into the show it hit me. The hidden chip on my shoulder that I think is (no pun intended) the elephant in the room with me and Hollywood. What it is that bugs me more than anything, and why I am having a hard time believing in the Tolerance Brigade and Mr. Clooney's bravery.
I'm a fat girl. I'm a smart girl, a pretty girl, a clever girl and a funny girl. But I'm also girthy. The brave movies, the forward movies, the tolerant movies--you can sup with others of another race. You can triumph over Communism. You can even have sex with another guy. Just whatever you do--don't fall in love with, don't show in any way, don't even acknowledge the existence of the fat chicks. This is the state of what I consume, and probably why I consume less. No one looks like me.
Is this why I am brought to tears by a soap commercial, and why I had a lump in my throat for all of Sara Ramirez' scenes in Grey's Anatomy? Probably. There is a glimmer of hope in those viewings that just doesn't exist in any of the Hollywood product I've seen.
I gobble up Dinner For Five like candy corn. I can't get enough of the anecdotes, the cross-chatter and the sense of fun. But tonight's show drove home the truth. Frank (not skinny) Darabont can hold the table in rapt attention. He has ripping tales as a writer and they all seemed to respect his mind and his humour. But I'm betting Shonda Rhimes will never be at that table. When the women are there, they are tiny little Neve Campbell ("What's it like to dance?!"), petite Christina Ricci or emaciated Rosanna Arquette. Rosanna had a lot to say about the lack of roles for older women. Rosanna, honey, let's talk. If you're fat you're older your whole life.
Is it a coincidence that box office takes are shrinking as America gets steadily larger? Probably, but I'm beginning to doubt it. If George Clooney wants to convince me that he's outside the mainstream, his next onscreen love interest could be at least a size 12.